lundi 13 décembre 2010

This is the latest. I am standing in front of a sink, stainless steel, cold water running on a colander full of half-peeled cobblestones, or at least that’s what they feel like to my hands, dry skin, ploughed field, a knife in my hand. Sloppy Joe, that’s my name, I’ll teach you to dance when I’m done with the remaining twelve kilos. I’ll stick around for a bit, babe, come to see me at bar. D’Arcy said she would drop by, she’s been depressed since the burglary, not that they got much but Billy’s box is gone, can’t be replaced. I tap my feet to shake the cold, Dee Dee at the other side of the kitchen taking the beat home, the man on top, now I’m getting sour. I better get on with it, soon I’ll be off for a dance, checking out the evening birds. I just hope I won’t see Gladys, she’s quite pissed off ‘cause I still haven’t sent her her letter – Marvin’s on a solo on the saucepans. These guys seem to be having fun, I’m peeling a few more kilos but believe you me, I won’t be mopping the floor. I’ll be off in an hour, honey, to pick up Gary on my way to the disco and sweat and dance till quarter to three, almost feeling the groovy beat now.